


The Get Down Sleepover

by mikeymagee



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeymagee/pseuds/mikeymagee
Summary: Shaolin Fantastic is invited over for a huge Sleepover with the rest of the Get Down Brothers, and the Soul Madonnas. He's not sure if he belongs there, in a place where they don't knife guys in the back. But...not to worry, his brothers will always be there for him.





	

Now, Shaolin Fantastic was used to being included in shit. Any club we wanted to get into, he had the connections to make it happen. If there was a party somewhere, it didn’t start until Shaolin walked in. Yeah, Shaolin Fantastic was no stranger to a good time. But when Books decided to invite Shaolin and over to the Kipling house for a sleepover with the rest of the gang, Shaolin was a little skeptical.

 

“A sleepover?” Shaolin asked. The crew had just finished rehearsal at Shaolin’s  pad, Ra Ra, Boo and Dizzee were already on their way home. It was a Friday afternoon and the streets were hot enough to melt wax onto. 

 

“Yeah man,” Zeke said, “A sleepover. The Mr. and Mrs. Kippling are out of town for the weekend, and they gave the guys the okay to invite some people over.  Ra Ra and Boo invited you and me, Yolanda’s gonna invite Mylene and Regina and…” Zeke stroked his chin, “I think Dizzee’s gonna invite that white boy Thor. You in?” 

 

Shao shook his head, “I don’t know man. I sleepover seems a little preschool don’t ya think?” The only parties Shao knew about had endless supplies of coke and enough booze to drown all of New Jersey. There was danger at every turn. One wrong glance, and a nigga would have holes in his stomach. It wasn’t a party if you weren’t gettin’ checked, as far as Shao was concerned. 

 

“Naw man,” Zeke said, “It’ll be fun. We’ll make popcorn, have pizza, and Ra Ra says they gonna play Shaft on the tube tonight. It’ll be sweet.” 

 

Well, Shaft was one bad mother fucker. And it could be a good opportunity for the Get Down Brothers to talk strategy for the next battle. 

 

“A’ight,” Shaolin said, “Maybe I’ll swing by a little later.” 

  
  


Ra Ra was known as the man with the vision. He was the one who convinced Shao to allow the rest of the group to spit to his DJing. His father always told him that reading all those comics and watching all those movies would rot his brain...well, perhaps father didn’t always know best. 

 

Still, it did take a little convincing to get the parents to Okay this sleepover, especially after what happened during their last party. The Kipplings were still paying for the damages done to the salon. Still, the kitchen was all set, the popcorn was in the microwave, and the TV was already pre set to the right channel.  Ra Ra sat on the couch marveling at his own work. The living room was cleaned and the party was just now getting started. He had already ordered the pizza.

 

Mylene, Regina, and Yolanda were already in the living room painting their nails. Boo was out buying candy (which seemed to be the only thing he did with allowance) and Dizzee went out to bring his friend Thor over. They’d be back any minute now. 

 

All that was missing was-

 

The doorbell rang. 

 

Yolanda looked up from her nails and stared at Ra Ra. She bobbed her head, as if to say “Get the door.” 

 

“Really?” Ra asked, “You can’t get it? I’ve been cleaning all day, and-”

 

“My nails are wet,” Yolanda reasoned, “Besides it’s probably the pizza and Mom and Dad gave you the money for it, after all.” 

 

Ra rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” He got up, and fished out the twenty bucks his father handed him. It took Ra a full half hour just to decide which pizza to buy. Dizzee always wanted vegetarian,  Boo  threw a fit whenever they didn’t order sausage. Zeke’s favorite was pepperoni and god only knew what kind of pizza Yolanda wanted because she changed her mind constantly. Some nights she just wanted straight cheese, and the next she wanted pineapple. And really, who the fuck heard of pineapples on pizza? So, Ra compromised. He ordered two large cheeses, and one meat lovers with extra sausage and pepperoni. The Kiplings had plenty of broccoli and pineapple and whatnot all over the who so who ever wanted extra toppings could simply rummage through the kitchen, find what they wanted and place it on their pizza. 

 

Shit, Ra Ra was a damn genius. 

 

The doorbell rang again. 

 

“I’m comin’,” Ra said. “Shit, pizza guys gettin’ more and more impatient every damn month. Ra opened the door, but instead of the sweaty, sun beaten pizza guy he was expecting, Ra saw Zeke, decked in an unironed collared shirt, jeans that he ripped last summer, and tattered shoes he never got around to replacing. 

 

“‘Sup Ra,” Zeke said. He walked inside as if he Ra had already invited him in, “Mylene here wich’all yet?” 

 

“Is she all you think about B?” Ra asked as he pointed to the living room, “She and the girls are doing their nails.” Zeke walked past, and Ra glanced back to the front door, “Shao ain’t with ya?” 

 

“Naw, he said he might swing by later or something. You know how he gets.” 

 

Ra slammed the door and walked by Zeke’s side, “Oh well, more pizza for us I guess.” 

  
  
  


Shaolin Fantastic. The lady killing romantic. The man the streets deemed a superhero. The man who made ladies swoon with his style, and made men shake with his music. He could fight with the best of them. Drink with the best of them. Smoke with the best of them. And yet here he stood, out in front of the Kipling’s family home. A handful of records stashed beneath his arms. 

 

Was he really about to do this? 

 

Shaolin had never met the Ra, Marcus, or Miles’ folks. He had only heard stories of them. Little anecdotes about doing the dishes, hearing their father play guitar on sunday mornings, and watching their mother work in the salon. It was all so normal, and so safe, and so genuine, that it always made Shao afraid. Shaolin Fantastic didn’t know how to act in a setting where switchblades and angel dust were banned. For Shaolin, coming into a family home was like trying to jam a fork into a light socket. Dangerous, and ill advised.

 

But he had made it all the way there, records shoved beneath his arms, and cigarettes stuffed in his pockets. 

 

“Shao?” 

 

Shaolin turned to see Dizzee, his arm around a tall blonde haired white boy who Shaolin had never seen before. 

 

“Hey Dizz,” Shaolin said as he reached his hand out of a quick slap. 

 

Dizzee grinned, touched fingertips with Shaolin, and then pulled away, “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it.” Dizzee turned to his friend, “This is Thor, you know, one of the guys who paint the junkyard and shit.”  Dizzee’s fingers trailed up Thor’s neck.  

 

“Oh,” Thor said, “You’re Shaolin Fantastic? Man, you’re a legend. We haven’t seen any of your work in months. We thought you might have gotten caught by the fuzz.” 

 

Shaolin shook his head, “Ain’t no cop gonna bust up Shaolin Fantastic. I’ve simply hung up my cans to focus on my DJing.” Shao shrugged and jostled his records. He turned his head to the door, “Books and Ra were tellin’ you guys were having a party?” 

 

“Naw, not a party, just a little get together. The parents said it was cool while they were out of town to invite a few people over.” Dizzee headed towards the door, with his arm still wrapped around Thor’s shoulders. “Come on in, I think Ra said he was gonna order some pizza, or some shit.” 

 

Dizzee walked up the steps and placed his key in the lock. “Come on,” he said, “The party’s just getting started.” 

  
  


“So,” Shaolin thought as he looked around the Kipling’s family home, “This is what a normal house is like?” 

 

There was no lingering smell of marijuana, no acritic taste of beer in the air, no fresh stains of fallen blood on the carpet. Just a gathering of teenagers in a home that made Shao want to curl up in a mountain of blankets and never leave. He felt like he was...safe. 

 

Was that the word? Safe? 

 

Shaolin followed Dizzee and Thor into the living room...and there was the whole gang, huddled together on the couch, legs sprawled and eyes glued to the TV set. Boo held the popcorn bowl to his chest, Ra clung to the remote like it was a heart monitor, Books and Mylene sat with their arms around each other. Yolanda munched on a slice of Pizza, while Regina blew on her nails. 

 

“It’s about time ya’ll got here,” Ra said to the three of them. “The movies about to start.” 

 

Shaolin shook his head. He watched as Dizzee and Thor took a seat against the armchair in the corner. Shaolin Fantastic couldn’t move. This was all just so...normal. Hanging with friends, in a house that felt secure, and unscathed by Fat Annie and her goons. This was nothing like the run down place Shao had to squat in once his old pad got torched. This was a home, not a place to wait in until things got better. And, as Shao sat there watching Books hold Mylene, and seeing Boo and Ra share popcorn, and hearing Dizzee explain Shaft to Thor, Shao couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t belong here. 

 

“Hey Shao,” Books said with a slight grin, “Ain’t you gonna sit down? There’s plenty of room on the couch, and there’s pizza in the kitchen if you’re hungry.” 

 

“Well...I.” Shaolin didn’t really know how to answer. Sure, they told him he was welcomed here, but this wasn’t a world he could slip into, and belong in. Fat Annie had taken that from him. Shao had been with her for so long, he couldn’t remember his own mother’s voice, or the feel of his father’s beard in his tiny hands, or the feeling of running through the streets in the rain for the sheer  _ thrill _ of it, rather than to escape with arms unscarred. Shaolin fumbled his records in his hands. His knees buckled under the weight of his own uncertainty. Shit. Shit, shit shit. 

 

He didn’t belong here. 

 

Shaolin Fantastic just tipped his hat (something he had forgotten to take off as he entered the house) and shook his head. “Naw, I just came to drop off these records for ya’ll. I’ve got a lot a shit I’ve gotta-”

 

“Shao,” Zeke said with a gleam of concern shining through his irises. “It’s cool.”

 

Boo nodded, “Yeah. Ain’t nuthin’ to worry yo’self over. We want you here.” 

 

“Who wouldn’t?” Dizzee added. 

 

“Put the records down for a sec, grab a slice of Pizza and sit down. The movies already started.” Ra turned the volume up to full power. 

 

Shaolin Fantastic was always the life of the party, but he had never felt like he was wanted. He could jive with the best of them, but he knew that once the music stopped, and the dust ceased to flow, he’d be alone once more. 

 

“Come on Shao,” Zeke said, “You’re missing the entire movie.” 

 

But maybe that wasn’t the case anymore. 

 

“A’ight,” Shaolin placed his records on the coffee table, and wedged himself next to Regina and Yolanda. This felt so new, and yet so familiar. It was uneasy, and brittle, and yet strong and unwavering. Shaolin felt as if he were relearning to walk. Relearning to place his feet in front of the other, and trust the ground he was standing on. 

 

The movie played on, and Shaolin found himself smiling, and laughing, and telling jokes. He even got Mylene to snort. There were high fives, and record playing, and the Soul Madonnas even sang one of their new singles. Dizzee showed Thor one of his new paintings, and the night moved on into the day. 

 

And when it was time for them to turn in, Ra passed out the blankets, put away the pizza and turned off the TV set. Zeke cuddled with Mylene, Dizzee wrapped his arms around Thor, and Shaolin felt a strange ease engulf him. A warmth that he felt like he hadn’t had in decades. 

 

He felt, for the first time in forever, like he had a family. 

 

And he was grateful.  And he was safe. And he was happy. But most importantly, he wasn’t alone anymore. 

 


End file.
